Runaway October

My gor­geous boys

MOTHERS

Real Moth­ers don’t eat quiche;
They don’t have time to make it.

Real Moth­ers know that their kitchen uten­sils
Are prob­a­bly in the sandbox.

Real Moth­ers often have sticky floors,
Filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Moth­ers know that dried play dough
Doesn’t come out of carpets.

Real Moth­ers don’t want to know what
The vac­uum just sucked up.

Real Moth­ers some­times ask ‘Why me?‘
And get their answer when a lit­tle
Voice says, ‘Because I love you best.’

Real Moth­ers know that a child’s growth
Is not mea­sured by height or years or grade…
It is marked by the pro­gres­sion of Mummy to Mum to Mother…

…

My grandma sent this to me today, and I thought it was short, sweet and com­pletely on point. I just wanted to share with the rest of you who might need a lit­tle poem about now.

So last night as the two kid­dos and I crammed into the tub (scary thought, huh?) for a leisurely soak, I real­ized that I say some really stu­pid things.

Don’t make your lit­tle brother angry!!

• Why not? Is he going to turn into an ax-wielding mon­ster. The thought makes me laugh. Those two teeth of his would fit per­fectly into the face of a psy­chopath. Will he turn into the Incred­i­ble Hulk? If he was green maybe peo­ple would stop touch­ing his head. I could tell them he has a con­ta­gious dis­ease. Take that nosy old ladies at the supermarket!

Do you under­stand me?

• Does it mat­ter? Even if the under­stood they’re not going to lis­ten. They can bob their lit­tle heads and say ‘Under­t­snad’, but the point is they don’t care what I say.

Don’t you dare!

• Again, what am I going to do? Put them in a time­out? Big Whoop. Time­out is the same as play time, you just have to face a wall for a cou­ple seconds.

What were you thinking?

• Again, it doesn’t mat­ter. With a lim­ited vocab­u­lary it’s really hard to express that you thought stick­ing your fore­skin in the vac­uum cleaner tube and then clos­ing it would be fun. It’s also hard to explain that cov­er­ing your­self in per­fume, includ­ing open wounds, seemed like a good idea until you feel off the bath­room counter. And even if mama did under­stand you, she’d still be mad. A blank “pity me” stare works better.

Boys! Be nice!

• “We are” is typ­i­cally what I hear. I guess when you’re under 3 run­ning the baby’s foot over with a wooden truck is nice.

What things do you find your­self say­ing as a par­ent that make you won­der why you bother to say it at all?